Don't Starve Drabbles
by NineCentsChange
Summary: A collection of short stories and one-shots featuring the cast of Don't Starve. Main pairings will be Willow/Wilson and Charlie/Maxwell, but not limited to those. Requests are currently being accepted!
1. The Big Day (Part I)

Wilson never thought the sounds of the doctor's office could be so quiet, and yet so deafening at the same time. He sighed, his leg bouncing with anticipation. He'd made an effort to not check the clock too often, as that would likely only add to his anxiety. He wished he could be in there with Willow. The nurses were kind enough to let him stay in the delivery room with her until the doctor arrived, and although he tried to persuade them to let him stay, he eventually had to accept defeat and retire to the waiting room.

He glanced at the clock. How long had he been in here? Two hours? Who knew? He ran a hand through his hair. How long does a birth normally take anyway? How much longer was Willow going to have to endure the pain she was going through? His mind drifted back to when he was in the room with Willow, and how agonizing the contractions were for her. All he could do was hold her hand and tell her encouraging things, that the doctor was going to be there soon, and that everything was going to be okay. God, he hoped he was correct.

Just then, the door to the outside opened, and a young woman walked in. She spotted Wilson and quickly made her way over and took a seat beside him. Wilson managed a small smile when he recognized who it was. "Hey Charlie."

"Hey Wilson," Charlie smiled, "I started driving as soon as I got off the phone with you." Her expression became more concerned when she noticed Wilson's tension. "So how's it going? Is Willow already in the delivery ward?"

He nodded, glancing back at the door leading to the ward. "They took her in a little more than two hours ago."

"Mm. So it sounds like we've still got some waiting to do."

"Yeah…" He trailed off, still partially lost in his own thoughts and worries.

Charlie, upon recognizing this, leaned closer to him. "Hey, I know you're nervous, but I can guarantee you that everything's going fine. These kind of things can take a while."

Wilson looked at her. "I know, it's just…" He looked back down at his hands. "She was in so much pain, and I felt terrible because there was nothing I could do about it... And…" He put his head in his hands, trying to fight back tears. "At the same time… I feel as if I did this to her…"

Charlie quickly put her hand on Wilson's arm. "Wilson. I'm not going to sit around and have you beat yourself up like this. Willow wanted have this baby just as much as you did. You've got no reason whatsoever to blame yourself."

Wilson lifted up his head to look at her. "But, what if…"

"No if's about it." She smiled at him. "Besides, this is Willow we're talking about here. You two have faced countless monsters and survived one of the most dangerous places ever together. I have complete faith that she'll be perfectly fine." She held his arm a little tighter. "And you know, as soon as you see your baby for the first time, none of this worrying is gonna matter. I can assure you that it'll all be worth it."

He lifted his head a little higher. "Really?"

She smiled a bit wider. "Really. Promise."

Wilson managed to smile his first genuine smile for the duration he'd been there, and took a deep breath. "Thanks Charlie."

"Anything I can do to help out a friend." They shared a few moments of silence, then she remembered something. "Oh, I almost forgot. Do you mind if Maxwell brings Wendy over here a little later? He might've mentioned that we were headed to the hospital, and she wanted to tag along."

"Oh, not at all. The more the merrier." He paused for a moment, then asked, "How have things been going anyway? With you and Maxwell, I mean?"

This made Charlie perk up a bit. "Us? Oh, it's been going great!" She grinned happily. "We've been working on a new performance routine, and I think it's gonna be a knock out!"

He smiled at her excitement, glad to be able to focus on a different topic.

"If it's successful enough, we're hoping to take a trip to New York and do the act there too." She sighed contently. "Maxy's got high hopes for this one. I haven't seen him this happy since…" Her smile faltered for a moment. "Well, in a long time."

"Oh, I'm sorry." He faltered. "I didn't mean to bring back any unpleasant memories."

"Oh, it's fine." She reassured him. "You didn't. What happened was a complete accident, one that no one could have foreseen."

Wilson decided to change the subject. "Well, let's not dwell on things of the past. I'm glad to hear you two are doing well." He paused, wondering what to say next. "Forgive me if this sounds invasive, but… have you two considered having kids of your own?"

Charlie seemed unprepared for the question. She quickly looked at him. "W-what?"

Worried he'd gone too far, he tried to backpedal. "I-I mean, just because I know you like children and all. I thought that maybe you guys would've…Oh." He put his hand on his forehead, breaking eye contact. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just-"

"Oh no! It's fine." She tried to reassure him again, her cheeks going slightly pink. "I just faltered for a moment there." She thought about Wilson's question. "Come to think of it, we haven't really talked about kids that much. Or at all, really. We've both been so caught up with our jobs as of lately." She paused to think a bit more. "But, I really do like kids. And I'd love for us to be able to start a family of our own. I'm just not too sure if or when we'd be able to get around to it."

Wilson nodded understandingly. "Well, you never really know with these kind of things. I mean, I hadn't even considered the idea of a family for a while myself. And now, well…" He gestured to the room around him. "Here I am."

She couldn't help but smile at his antics.

He smiled back at her. "All I'm saying is that you shouldn't get too hung up on it. You guys may not be considering kids now, but who knows. Maybe later on something will happen."

Charlie laughed softly. "Yeah… maybe something will."

She looked distant for a moment and Wilson wondered at it, but being the gentleman scientist that he was, he decided not to press any further. He turned his attention back to the waiting room door, and the two of them sat in silence for a while.


	2. The Big Day (Part II)

Willow cried out in pain as another contraction racked through her. She panted heavily, her bangs stuck to her forehead with sweat.

"You're doing great Miss Willow," the doctor told her, "almost there."

She groaned and leaned her head back on the pillow. They'd said that at least four times now. She couldn't tell how much progress she was making, but it had been agonizingly slow. All she knew for certain was the white-hot pain she was in.

One of the nurses came over to the doctor with a blanket. The doctor acknowledged her, then looked back toward Willow. "You really are close now. When you feel the next contraction, focus your breathing and push."

Willow made a small noise in response between her heavy breaths. It wasn't long before she started to feel intense pressure in her lower abdomen. Knowing what this meant, she took several deep breaths, and then began to push as hard as she could.

"That's it. Keep pushing!"

She cried out again and pushed harder. Oh God, it hurt. Her entire body burned with pain.

"Just one more big push, you can do it!"

The pain was becoming unbearable, and yet she somehow found the energy within her to push once more. She screamed as the pain reached a crescendo. Then, just when she thought she was going to black out, a baby's cry filled the room.

* * *

Wilson managed to pass the rest of the time making small talk with Charlie. They went silent when a nurse entered the room holding a clipboard. She glanced at the papers. "Wilson Higgsbury?"

He quickly got up from the chair and walked up to her. "Yes?"

"Your wife is ready to see you now. Just come with me."

He heard Charlie make an excited noise behind him. He glanced back for a moment to catch her beaming at him before turning and following the nurse down the hallway, his heart pounding with anticipation.

They stopped in front of a closed door. "She's right in here," the nurse told him, "I'll give you guys some time alone for a bit." Just before she walked off, she added, "Oh, and congratulations."

Wilson thanked her, and then quietly opened the door to the room. The sight before him made his heart instantly melt.

Willow was resting in a bed, looking frazzled and exhausted, but still smiling. In her arms was a tiny grey bundle, on which her attention was fully focused. She looked up when Wilson came into the room, and her smile grew. "Hey," she said softly.

"Hey…" he responded. He stood at the foot of the bed, still taking in the sight.

Willow laughed quietly as she noticed his stupor. "Well, don't just stand there silly. Come here and meet your new daughter."

"D-daught…" His words caught in his throat. They had a daughter. That invention of his actually worked. He came over to Willow's side and sat in the chair next to the bed. She adjusted the blanket so he could get a better look.

She was the smallest person he'd ever seen. Her skin was pink and her eyes were shut tight, and her tiny little hands grasped about at nothing in particular. Wilson tentatively put his hand on her forehead and ran his fingers through her tiny patch of dark hair. "She's beautiful…"

Willow stroked her daughter's cheek. "She really is." They spent a few quiet moments admiring their new baby, then Willow broke the silence. "So, what are we going to name her?"

Wilson blinked, he'd almost forgotten about that. "Didn't we discuss some names? What was that one we both liked?" He thought for a moment, then remembered. "Hazel. That's the one."

Willow smiled, then looked at her daughter. "Hazel, I like it." She held her daughter closer to her. "Our little Hazel." She paused before looking at him again. "Do you want to hold her?"

The idea hadn't even occurred to him. Here he was with his newborn daughter and he hadn't even held her yet. "I'd love to."

Willow lifted Hazel up to pass her to her father. Ever so carefully, Wilson took her into his arms, as if she were the most precious thing in the world. His heart swelled with pride and happiness as he gazed down at her. "Hey there Hazel. It's me, your daddy." He spoke to her softly and stroked her forehead with his free hand. "Remember all the times I talked to you?" He felt his eyes getting misty. "And how excited you'd always get?"

Just then, Hazel started to stir slightly. She slowly opened up her eyes, revealing a pair of dark brown orbs that looked at him quizzically. She stared at him for a moment, then made a tiny noise and reached her hands up towards him. Wilson laughed and let her take hold of one of his fingers. "I think she still recognizes me."

Willow smiled and reached out to rub Hazel's tummy, getting another squeak from her. "I think she does."

It wasn't much longer before Willow felt her eyelids getting heavy, and she yawned sleepily. Wilson noticed her exhaustion. "Why don't you get some rest? You've both had a pretty big day today."

Willow chuckled as she rubbed at one of her eyes. "Yeah, if having a baby counts as a big day." She yawned again. "Regardless, it does tend to tire one out." She laid down on the bed. "Can you hold her till the doctor comes back?"

He smiled and ran a hand through her bangs. "Of course." Then he remembered something. "Oh, do you mind if Charlie, Wendy and Maxwell come see her?"

"Mm-n," she replied groggily, "but let Maxwell know that if he tries to do anything to her so help me I'll…"

"Don't worry," he reassured her, "Charlie will keep him in check."

"Alright… I'm okay with it then…" She said as she dozed off.

Wilson smiled and looked back at Hazel, rocking her gently, and already wondering about what the future had in store for them as a trio. He kissed his daughter on the forehead. "Welcome to the family Hazel," he whispered and held her close, "welcome."


	3. Mistletoe

**Hey everyone! This drabble was inspired by a prompt on tumblr that involved one person of your ship putting mistletoe all over the house, much to the other person's surprise. I saw it and had to do a Charle/Maxwell drabble on it! So enjoy, and as always, reviews are greatly appreciated. Have a great and safe holiday everyone!**

* * *

Maxwell had to admit, he didn't normally care for Christmas all that much. All the bright red and green colors everywhere seemed to get more obnoxious every year, and he had already gotten sick of hearing the same Christmas songs over and over again. Of course, that didn't mean he didn't partake in the usual festivities. He and Charlie had decorated the house with some tinsel and lights, as well as put up a tree in their living room. It was simple, but merry all the same.

Despite all this, Charlie had noticed that he wasn't harboring the same amount of enthusiasm for the holiday as she was, and she was determined to do something about it. One evening, she left the studio early while Maxwell was still there, telling him she was headed to the store to get more ornaments for the tree and that she'd meet him at home. Maxwell didn't think much of it at the time, though in hindsight, he should have realized she was up to something.

He didn't comprehend Charlie's scheme until he came home that evening. He entered the front door, only to stop immediately. Hanging just a few feet in front of and above him was a piece of mistletoe. He stared at it for a moment, then scoffed quietly and walked past it. Apparently Charlie had decided to do a little more decorating.

He started down the hallway, when he stopped again. Dangling at the corner, was _another_ piece of mistletoe. He looked back at the piece behind him, then back at the one in front of him. Why would Charlie put up two pieces of mistletoe? And why so close to each other?

Now extremely curious and a bit baffled, he passed the second piece and made his way into the living room, and froze in his tracks for the third time.

It was everywhere.

Every doorway, every corner, every part of the house, had a piece of mistletoe. He wasn't sure what he was more perplexed by, the fact that the plant was all over the house, or the fact that Charlie, his five-foot-three wife, had managed to hang it in some very high places. "How…" he asked himself as he looked up to see at least three pieces dangling from the chandelier, which hung almost eight feet off the ground.

His thoughts were interrupted by when he heard a giggle from the kitchen. He walked in to find Charlie grinning mischievously at him and leaning on the counter, donning a simple red dress and a santa hat. Yet another piece of mistletoe hung above her. "So," she began, "what do you think?"

"I'm… at a bit of a loss for words." He glanced back at the mistletoe in the living room behind him. "How did you manage…?"

She chuckled and walked around the counter to approach him. "I couldn't just stand around and watch you be such a Scrooge during this time. So, I thought I'd help you out."

"By…putting mistletoe everywhere? Charlie I'm sure how this is supposed to…"

"Aw, c'mon." She came up to him and took his hands. "Please?" She tilted her head slightly, and stuck out her lower lip.

He couldn't say no to that face. "Oh...alright."

She stood up on her toes, and he put his hand under her chin and bent down slightly, and brought their lips together. They held the kiss for a few seconds, then parted.

She gave him another grin. "See? Christmas isn't all so bad, huh?"

He grinned devilishly back at her, "I could get used to it," and brought her in for another kiss.


	4. The Big Day (Epilogue)

"Aw, Wilson. She's adorable!" Charlie stood next to Maxwell, with Wendy pressed up to the window to where the babies in the hospital were kept, and Wilson right beside her. She tapped Maxwell on the arm. "Isn't she darling, Maxy?"

"Yes, it seems you two have managed to produce a… rather endearing offspring." He received a rap on the shoulder from Charlie and flinched. "What?" She gave him a stern look, and he sighed. "What I _mean _to say is, congrats, to the both of you."

Wilson smiled and looked back at the bassinet where his daughter lay sound asleep.

Wendy moved back from the glass to look at Wilson. "So what are you guys gonna name her?"

"Well, we were thinking we'd call her Hazel."

"Hazel," Charlie repeated, "I think that's a perfect name." Wendy nodded in agreement.

Charlie looked back to Wilson. "And how's Willow doing?"

He smiled. "Just fine. She's getting some well-earned rest right now. They said we can take Hazel home today once we've finished filling out her birth certificate." He checked the clock on the wall. "In fact, she should probably be awake now." He looked back at the group. "Do you guys mind if I…?"

"Oh, not at all." Charlie assured him. "In fact, we'd better get going ourselves."

"Aww…" Wendy lamented.

Wilson chuckled. "Don't worry. You guys are welcome to visit us any time."

The group finished their farewells, then Wilson made his way into the nursery to pick up Hazel. He carried her to the room where Willow was resting, and carefully opened the door. Willow was already awake in her bed, she looked up from the book she was reading and smiled when she saw who it was.

"Morning, dearest." He spoke softly. "Look who came to see her mother."

She laughed lightly as he came over to the bed and sat down in the same chair, still holding Hazel in his arms.

"Hang on." She began undoing the buttons on her shirt. "She's probably hungry."

It took Wilson a moment to realize what she was doing. "Oh, do you want me to leave for a few moments?"

She gave him a look, then chuckled. "No, you can stay."

It was his turn to give her a look as he passed Hazel over to her. "What's so funny?"

She smiled again as she took Hazel and worked on positioning her properly. "The fact that we're married and have had multiple occasions of intimacy, and you're still gentlemanly enough to ask if you should excuse yourself."

"Well," he rubbed the back of his neck, "it never hurts to ask."

"True." She chuckled again, then quieted down when Hazel finally latched on and began to nurse.

After Hazel was fed, they completed her birth certificate and then began preparations to take her home. Wilson was extremely eager to bring his daughter home so he could show her around the house, and while Willow felt the same, she was mostly glad to finally be out of that hospital.

A few hours later, the new family finally arrived at their house. Wilson unlocked the door and allowed Willow to enter first. "Here we are, Hazel!" He came to Willow's side to look at their daughter in her arms. "Your brand new home."

Willow smiled and rubbed Hazel's belly. "I think you're gonna like it here."

Some movement was heard from the living room, and then Chester came bounding over to them, ecstatic at his people's return. Wilson got down on his knees and scratched the monster on his head. "Hey boy! Good to see you!" Chester turned his attention to Willow and made a sound, curious about what she was holding in her arms.

Willow knelt down to the floor. "Hazel, this is Chester," she spoke softly. Hazel turned her head to look at the fluffy monster, not sure what to make of him. Chester propped himself on Willow's knee to get a better look at the tiny human. He sniffed her carefully, then opened his mouth and licked Hazel's hand. Hazel made a squeaking noise in retaliation, but then reached back out to him, making excited noises. Chester panted happily and licked her again.

Willow laughed and stood back up as Chester started bouncing around them excitedly.

Wilson knelt down again to try and calm the chest monster. "Okay, alright, easy there boy. I know you're excited, but you're gonna have to wait till she's a little older to be able to play with her."

Willow smiled as Wilson stood back up to face her. "Here," she passed Hazel to him, "do you want to help me show her around the house?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." He stroked Hazel's hair with his free hand. "Now, where she would we take her first? The nursery?"

"Sounds perfect."

"Alright then, off we go." He started towards the stairs, with Willow at his side.

The nursery was painted a soft yellow, with a white crib, a small self, and a simple rocking chair in the corner. Various stuffed animals lay about the room, and a handmade mobile hung over the crib, depicting different kinds of animals, including creatures that dwelled in Maxwell's world.

Willow tapped the mobile to make it spin slightly. "Do you think we should ever tell her about our past?"

Still holding Hazel, Wilson came over to the crib where Willow was standing. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, will we ever tell her about how and where we met? How we ended up in some world very different from this one?"

"Hm." Wilson thought for a few moments. "Well, I don't see any harm in it. Maybe we could tell her stories about our adventures there, or something." He paused for a moment to glance at Chester, who had followed them up to the room. "Besides, it'll only be a matter of time before she wonders why no one else's dog looks like ours."

Willow chuckled. "Well, you do have a point." She watched as Wilson carefully put Hazel in her crib, then moved close to him and put her head on his shoulder. "We may not be the most normal of people, Hazel, but you can bet we're going to strive to be the best parents we can possibly be."

Wilson chuckled and took her hand. "Don't we know it."


	5. Improper

**Hey again everyone! Hope you've all had a great new year! I'd just like to take a moment to thank everyone for all the faves and lovely comments! You are all awesome! This drabble has barely any plot to it and is just meant to be silly and not taken seriously! It consists of Willow and Wilson traveling through the woods, and hilarity ensues. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Ugh, please tell me you're going to shave that."

Wilson ran a hand through the patchy stubble on his face as they traveled across the woods. "Quite contrary, Willow." He turned to look at her. "You see, when winter comes, this is going to bloom into the magnificent beard it's meant to be."

"It looks like a bunch of tiny hamsters died on your face."

"And," he continued, ignoring the insult, "not only will it be manly, but it will also provide some much-needed insulation." He paused, then, feeling mischievous, added, "Insulation that _you_ seem to be lacking in."

She was ready for him to try and make a comeback. "Oh please," she tossed off her backpack and went over to a small rock, "I've got all the insulation I need right _here_." She propped her foot on the rock and pulled her tall, black sock down to the ankle, showing off her pale leg that was covered in dark hair. She smiled smugly at him. "How's that for insulation?"

Wilson wasn't sure what was flustering him more. The fact that the woman whom he was only friends with was showing her bare leg to him, or the fact that he couldn't help but admire it. Despite her thin figure, her calves still had some muscle definition to them, giving her leg a rather pleasant appearance overall. Before he could stop himself, his eye traveled up her leg and to her skirt, where just the smallest amount of thigh was exposed— NONONO! Get off that train of thought _right now_!

"J-just put your sock back on so we can keep moving!" He stammered and turning to keep walking, praying the blush on his face wasn't as obvious as it felt it was.

Willow raised an eyebrow and rolled her sock back up, then retrieved her backpack. "What's up with you?" she asked, walking quickly to catch up. "Don't tell me you're scared of looking at someone's legs."

"No," he replied through gritted teeth, "it's just… improper."

"Improper?" She stopped for a second, then continued walking behind him. "Uh, I don't know if you've noticed, Wilson, but we're not exactly a part of society anymore." No response.

She sighed quietly, then trotted to get alongside him. "What I'm saying is that there aren't any rules to tell us what to do or how to act out here. So essentially, there's no such thing as proper or improper anymore. You see?"

Wilson sighed. She had a point, but for the time being all he wanted to do was change the subject. "Yes, well, regardless, we should keep moving if we want to find a good spot to set up camp before nightfall." He quickened his pace. "Come along, then."

Willow rolled her eyes and was about to follow him, when she suddenly got an idea. "Hey Wilson."

"Hm?" He stopped to face her again.

She had tossed down her backpack on the ground again, and was fiddling with something behind her back. He stared at her, dumbfounded, having absolutely no clue what she was doing.

Then, she reached underneath her front of her shirt and pulled something out from underneath it and tossed it to him. "Catch!"

He caught the thing in his hands. "What is…?" He inspected it closely. It looked and felt like a piece of fabric, with two round-ish pieces in the front that had two straps connected to them. His face suddenly paled as he realized what he was holding. "GAH!" He dropped it on the ground as if it were red hot, his face now crimson. "_WILLOW_!"

Willow was already doubling over with laughter as she walked over and picked it up off the ground. "Haha! Just the reaction I was expecting! The look on your face was priceless!"

Now even more flustered than he was before, it took him a few tries to find words again. "Okay, you know what? I've had enough of this." He turned and set off at an even faster pace. "I'm not stopping again until we've found a place to camp. You can keep up or not if it's all the same to you."

Willow finally recovered from her laughing fit and jogged to catch up to him. "Oh come on, Wilson, it's a _bra_. It's not going to hurt you." She dangled it in front of her to help prove her point.

"Yes, but, well, I still don't appreciate you just tossing it at me like that!" He paused for a moment. "How did you even _do_ that? Taking it off?"

She smirked. "Woman's secret. Strictly confidential."

"Ah." He decided to accept defeat.

"So, about that beard…"

"I'm still not going to shave it, if that's what you're wondering."

"Drat."


	6. Valentines

**Hello again everyone! This is a oneshot inspired by a request by RainingCatsForecast, that features Wendy and a look into her life at school. This takes place after the events of Don't Starve. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

When Abigail had first passed away, it was as if Wendy had gone through a complete transformation. She became cold, almost emotionless to everyone around her. She rarely smiled, for she only found interest in talking about the fragility of life and the inevitability of death for all living things. Everything led to death and sadness, she told herself, so why bother trying to avoid it?

The psychiatrist told her parents that she was going through a phase of mourning, and only once she accepted the fact that Abigail was in a better place could she begin her healing process and move on. But Wendy didn't want to move on, she didn't want to forget Abigail, and so she stayed in mourning for a long time.

It was several months after Abigail's death when Wendy suddenly went missing. Witnesses said she was last seen standing at her sister's grave, a red flower clutched in her hand. Fearing the worst, her parents organized multiple search parties to go and look for her. They found her 24 hours later, passed out in the woods just a few miles from their home. Her clothes were tattered and covered in dirt, but she was in good health otherwise.

That was almost three years ago, Wendy recalled. She told her parents that she fallen and hit her head, and had the strangest dream. She dreamt that she went to a world unlike anything she'd ever seen before, filled with odd creatures, frightening monsters, and magic.

Of course, she knew that it was not really a dream. Her uncle, Maxwell, had transported her to that realm in exchange for being able to see Abigail again. She met a slew of interesting people who were also trapped in that world, and they survived there together for a long time. But as Maxwell said, time works differently in that world, and she learned that she'd hadn't been gone that long from the real world when she got back.

Spending time in that had changed her in some way, and she wasn't quite sure how to put it in words. She still missed Abigail, but she found the pain of her loss starting to reside just a little bit each day. Over time, Wendy found herself smiling more, laughing harder, and most importantly, feeling happy. Even though she couldn't summon Abigail anymore, she knew her sister was there with her, and that she could finally begin to heal.

She was a sophomore in high school now. The school walls were covered with pink paper hearts in anticipation for Valentine's Day. Wendy walked through the halls, donning a red skirt with white polka-dots, her blonde hair tied up in a pony-tail. She had stopped at her locker when she sensed a presence beside her. She turned to see Jeremy, a junior boy on the baseball team, leaning up against the lockers. He stood up straight and smiled at her. "Hey Wendy."

"…Jeremy." She answered back, still unsure of his intentions.

He fidgeted slightly. "So, uh, I saw you hanging out on the bleachers during practice the other day…"

"Yes," she replied, "it's a nice spot for reading after school."

"Yeah, totally." He paused again. "So, you know how we have a game this Valentine's day?"

"Yes?"

"Well, um," he hesitated, "I was wondering, maybe after we play, you and I could, go hang out together or something?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Hang out?"

"Yeah, I mean like we could go into town and catch a movie or something, I don't know." He paused again. "So, what do you think?"

Wendy had become an expert at hiding her emotions behind a neutral face, and she momentarily delighted herself as she watched him struggle trying to read her emotion.

"I'll consider it." She closed her locker and walked off without waiting for an answer.

* * *

Wendy hopped off the school bus and immediately walked towards a grassy hill close to her family's house. She climbed up it and stopped once she reached the top. There was a single tree at the top of the hill, and underneath its shade rested a gravestone. Etched on the front of it was an engraving:

_Abigail_

_Beloved daughter and sister_.

Wendy set her backpack on the ground. "Hey Abby." She walked to the grave and sat beside it, looking out over the beautiful landscape. She sighed contently. "School was interesting today. It seems like everyone's getting ready for Valentine's Day."

She glanced at the grave beside her. "That boy Jeremy asked me out today. He wants to hang out after his game this Saturday."

She looked back at the landscape. "I told him I'd consider it, that'll keep him guessing for a few days. I never really thought of him being my type, but I suppose I could give him a chance. It will be Valentine's Day, after all."

They sat silence together for a while longer, when Wendy noticed a figure approaching from down the hill. It looked like a person, but it most certainly was not one. This "person" had eight eyes, short black fur, and sharp teeth. Any other human would have been frightened by their appearance, but Wendy smiled instead. "Hey Webber."

The spider-boy grinned as he trotted up the hill. He was dressed in shorts, a button-up shirt, and a simple grey cap. "Hey Wendy! Hey Abigail!" He chirped excitedly. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Not at all. We love company." Wendy moved her backpack so he could sit beside her.

He sat cross-legged next to her, his extra appendages twitching excitedly. "How was school today?"

"Same as usual, if you ask me," she leaned against the tree behind her, "Abby and I were just talking about how Valentine's Day is coming up."

"Really? What's that?"

She forgot that Webber wasn't as familiar with as many traditions as she was. "Well," she began, "it's a day where people do nice things for the people that they like, which usually means they give each other sappy cards or candy."

"Huh…" Webber rested his chin on his hands, clearly interested.

"And then sometimes, when you give someone a gift, you can ask them to _be_ your valentine." She sighed. "It's a rather overrated holiday, if you ask me."

"Oh…" They admired the view for a while in silence, then Webber spoke up again. "Hey Wendy, does that mean that you could be _my_ Valentine?"

She felt her cheeks go pink as she sat up from the tree. "What…?"

"Well, I mean," he put a hand on his neck, "you're a really good friend of mine. That and I don't really know any other kids."

"Ah…" she sighed as she understood. "In that case, I'd love to be your Valentine, Webber."

His face immediately brightened. "Really?"

"Of course. We are friends, after all."

They stayed there together on the hill until they heard Wendy's mother call for her. Webber quickly got up from his spot. "Well, I guess I'd better get going." He turned to Wendy. "Do you wanna meet later today?"

She gave him a smile. "Sure."

"Great! I'll see you later." He turned to trot back down the hill, then looked back at her. "Oh, and happy almost-Valentine's day!"

She laughed. "Same to you!"

She watched as he scampered off to the woods, then put a hand on the gravestone next to her. "He really is a nice boy, isn't he Abby?" Then she picked up her backpack and headed for the house.

* * *

**Thanks again to RainingCatsForecast for the request. I feel like I kinda went off-prompt a bit, but I hope you enjoy regardless! Oh and in case anyone's wondering, Wendy and Webber are about the same age in my headcanon.**


	7. Wigfrid

**Hello again everyone! First things first, I apologize for the inactivity as of lately. School's been working me into the ground lately, so I haven't had much time to do any writing. The good news, however, is that I'll be on spring break soon, and I hope to have time to get some more writing done. My main goal is to work on the next chapter of "What Goes Around." I have an idea of what I want to write for it, but there's still some stuff that needs to get properly ironed out and all that. So, in the meantime, please enjoy this little Wigfrid origin story! This is based off a request by RainingCatsForecast.  
**

* * *

Wigfrid clutched her spear tightly in her hands and bared her teeth at the sight before her.

A monstrous green dragon reared its scaly head and let loose a terrifying roar, thick smoke belching from its red maw.

She raised her spear above her head. "VALHALLA AWAITS!" Charging the beast, she rolled to dodge a swing from its tail, then grabbed one of its horns and swung her way up onto its head. The dragon swung its massive neck in attempt to throw her off, but to no avail.

"FALL TO ME, DRAGON!" She lifted her spear again, and plunged the weapon into the monster's head. It roared in anguish as it raised its head high in the air.

Grabbing a horn with one hand, she ripped the spear out with the other and readied herself to stab again when a voice interrupted her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold everything!"

Wigfrid sighed and lowered her spear as the dragon ceased thrashing and slowly lowered its head and neck to the floor below. She remained perched atop its head as a man climbed up onto the stage and ran over to her.

It was Richard, the director. She gave him a distasteful look. "What is it _this_ time?" Her Nordic accent was now gone.

Richard quickly glanced between her and the now lifeless dragon. "Wigfrid, what are you _doing_?"

She rolled her eyes. "Slaying the dragon, what's it look to you?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, I can see that," he looked back at her, "but the script doesn't call for you to leap on its head and actually stab it!" He gesticulated back towards the other side of the stage. "You're supposed to run across the stage, dodge the swipe of its tail, and then_ pretend_ to stab it in the head."

"The scene didn't feel as heroic and daring as I wanted it to be," she explained as she climbed down from the dragon's neck as other actors and stagehands made their way onto the stage, "so I thought I'd improvise."

"Yes, but your improvisation could be costing us right now." He leaned over the dragon's head, trying to inspect the gash where Wigrid's spear had penetrated it. "We spent a huge amount of time and a small fortune constructing this dragon puppet," he looked back towards her, "and we can't afford having you jump on it and causing damage."

"I didn't damage it when I jumped on it," she retorted, "it still worked perfectly fine! And secondly—"

"Look, Wigfrid," Richard interrupted her, "I appreciate that you have feedback, but we're too far into production to change anything now. So can you please promise me that you'll stick to the script from now on?"

She raised an eyebrow. "And if I don't?"

"Then you can go and find a new play to star in."

"…Fine." She took off her helm and carried it under her arm as she walked off the stage. Richard announced a take five for everyone.

Wigfrid sat in a chair in her dressing room, still in costume and facing her mirror, still silently fuming over the conversation she'd just had. The radio on her desk played some soft music.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair to glare at the ceiling. "Bunch of harebrained amateurs, all of them." Four times now, she'd tried to improve the play by going off-script, and four times now her ideas had been shot down. Leaning forward again, she rested her head in her hands. She'd been trying to break into professional theatre for more than a year now, and her chance rested greatly on whether or not this play did well. But with the way the story was, she feared her chance would not happen. But she wasn't about to give up either.

"Ill prove it to them," she spoke out loud to no one, "I don't care what it takes. I'll prove that I have what it takes to be a professional. Somehow…"

Just then, the music on the radio faded out and was replaced with garbled static. She looked at it, then reached out and tapped it a few times. No change.

She sighed and stood up. "Darn thing must be busted." Picking up her helm, she stood up and walked towards the door.

Her hand reached for the knob, but stopped just a few inches away when a voice surrounded by static suddenly filled the room.

"_Say pal, looks like you're having some trouble…"_

She slowly turned back around. Had the radio just spoken to her?

"_It's such a pity, isn't it? That they cannot see what true potential looks like…"_

It _had_ spoken to her. She quickly came back over to the desk and picked the radio up, her curiosity now piqued.

"_But we both know better, don't we?"_ The voice purred, each word enticing her to keep listening._ "Which is why I have the perfect thing for you."_

She leaned closer to the radio. "And that thing is…?"

The voice paused a moment longer before continuing. _"What I have for you is a test. One that will challenge your abilities as an actress. Pass this test, and your talent will finally be recognized." _

She raised an eyebrow. It certainly wasn't every day a mysterious voice on the radio told you it could help you solve all your problems, but at the same time it was making quite the enticing offer.

"_So, what do you say, pal?"_

She set the radio down and looked about her dressing room. Many posters from all of her favorite plays hung on the wall. Plays that had first inspired her to become an actress in the first place. This could be a sign, her chance to become someone great. All she had to do was pass this test, whatever it was, and her dreams would be fulfilled. She looked back to her unicorn helm resting on the desk next to the radio. Then, with a look of determination, she picked up her helm and set it upon her head. She stood up and faced the radio. "I accept."

"Excellent." The voice laughed.

Suddenly, the lights started flickering. Static came back over the radio, loud enough to drown out all other sound.

Wigfrid's face paled as two black shapes started oozing from the radio. They spilled off the desk and slithered towards her, then pulled themselves off the wooden floor and manifested into two dark, clawed hands.

She gave a yelp of fright and quickly dodged to the side as the monstrous appendages make a grab for her. She rolled across the floor and tried to make a break for the door, but one of the hands managed to catch her leg, bringing her to the floor. She dug her nails into the wood, desperately searching for something to grab onto as the dark thing dragged her backwards. She saw her spear resting on the floor, and snatched it as a last resort. But before she could try and strike at the hand, its counterpart wrapped itself around her arms and torso, incapacitating her.

She cried out in fear. The hands were ice-cold against her skin as she struggled against them, only to have them tighten their grip and lift her high off the ground.

Her head now just inches away from the ceiling, she cried out again as the floor beneath her started to open up, revealing nothing up a pitch-black void below her. She screamed again as the hands suddenly pulled her down into the pit, then everything went dark.

* * *

She was lying on her back when she finally came to. She opened her eyes slowly, only to shut them tight again as bright sunlight blinded her vision. A dark silhouette suddenly appeared above her, casting a shadow on the ground where she lay.

"Say pal, you don't look so good."

Wait. She knew that voice. That was the voice on the radio she'd spoken with.

"You'd better find something to eat before night comes."

She opened her eyes and sat up quickly, trying to focus her vision on the person standing above her. He was very tall and thin, sporting a dark pinstripe suit with a single red flower in its pocket, a lit cigar in his gloved hand. He had a devilish smile on his face, almost like a smirk. Before she could open her mouth to say something to him, he had already disappeared.

"Hey!" She scrambled to her feet, ignoring the sudden head rush. "Whö in Ödin's name dö ye think yöu are? Yöu prömised me a test!" She froze. Why did she talk like that? And why was she speaking with an accent?

"Wot on Earth…?" She looked down at herself. She was still wearing her Valkyrie costume, her helm still on her head. She tried speaking a few more time, each attempt resulting in her sounding like a strong-headed viking with a love for battle.

Eventally, she came to a conclusion: she couldn't break character.

She walked back over to her spear that rested on the grass and picked it up. Was _this _supposed to be her test? For the first time, she paused to take in her surroundings. She stood in a small meadow, which was surrounded by a forest of pine trees that stretched out as far as the eye could see.

She took a deep breath and adjusted her helm. If this was supposed to be her test, she was determined to pass it. If that mysterious man wanted her to be a Valkyrie, then she would be the most convincing Valkyrie there ever was. This was the saga of Wigfrid the Viking, and he was her antagonist, and she wasn't about to let him win.

"Wot 'ave I gotten myself into?" She asked herself as she walked out of the meadow and into the strange new world.


	8. Deerclops

**Hello once again! This is just a little short story I wanted to get done since I had the time. I may do a continuation of this, depending on if I have time. Please note that this story contains some slight Willowson, and a few brief mentionings of blood. Enjoy!**

* * *

It was a cold morning when Willow got up that day. A layer of fog coated the ground, shrouding their surroundings in a blanket of mist. She climbed out of her tent and stretched, her breath visible in the chilled air. "What I'd give for a cup of coffee…" She mumbled to herself as she fixed her two ponytails and put on her vest.

Winter was almost upon them, and she and Wilson had been working hard to gather enough supplies for it. The winters in this world were harsh, long, and unforgiving. To have enough clothing, food, and other resources would mean the difference between life and death. Not to mention the terrifying monsters that seemed to migrate to the island during this time. It was a world of kill or be killed, and they had to be prepared for everything, and anything.

She trudged over to their cache of firewood and picked up a few logs, then carried them over to their fire pit. After tossing them down, she put a few handfuls of grass into the pit, then fished her lighter out of her pocket. Within minutes, a large fire was blazing in front of her.

It was then that Wilson decided to exit out of his tent, making his way over to the campfire. He yawned. "Morning…"

"Mm…" She responded, still tired and not enjoying the cold.

After a light breakfast of cooked rabbit meat and some carrots, the two prepared to get their daily chores done. Today, Willow planned to head out to the forest outside their camp and chop down trees to finish filling their cache of fire wood. Wilson was going to make his way toward the grasslands to check their rabbit traps, collect grass, and hopefully get some beefalo wool. Normally, they would travel together to collect resources, but with winter coming soon they'd been forced to work separately to get more tasks done in one day.

Willow put on a fuzzy hat, stuffed some jerky into her backpack for later, then picked up an axe. Wilson rummaged around in a chest beside her, grabbing a hat for himself and a spear. "Be careful out there." He told her, just before she was about to leave their camp.

She scoffed slightly, then reached out to adjust the hat on his head. "_You_ be careful." She gave him one more smile before walking out of the wooden walls of their camp, the frosted grass crunching beneath her shoes.

She walked far enough from the camp that she could just barely make out its outline through the trees. Close enough to run back to if needed, but far enough to ensure she wouldn't lead anything undesirable back to it. She approached a good-sized pine tree, then sighed and lifted her axe.

After a few solid swings, the tree fell to her feet. "Take that nature…" She laughed to herself, remembering Wilson's trademark line whenever he cut down a tree. She chopped the pine into reasonably-sized chunks, picking up any pine cones that had fallen, just in case a treeguard decided to make an appearance.

She spent almost an hour repeating this process, until she came to a tree that had already been broken off at its base. "Hm, odd…" She spoke to herself once again, walking around the pine. Could something had knocked this over? She was likely just being paranoid, she told herself. But then again, a bit of healthy paranoia had saved their skins more than once out here.

She walked past the fallen tree, about to toss any worries aside, when she came upon another tree that had suffered the same fate. Her breath caught for a moment when she inspected it. This one had three long claw marks across its trunk, and there were several scrape marks across the ground nearby it. She gripped her axe tighter and walked carefully, trying to keep quiet as she followed the trail of marks on the ground and fallen trees. Something big had definitely passed through here.

She came around another tree to continue following the path, then froze and quickly hid back behind it, her breath silent and rapid. She stayed in that spot for a moment, then dared to peek around the trunk at the sight before her.

Lying on the ground, facing away from her, was a massive creature. Its body was almost entirely covered in long, shaggy hair, and two huge antlers protruded from its head.

_A deerclops_? She thought to herself, her heart still racing. What was a deerclops doing here? And so early? The first time she and Wilson had encountered one it had been the dead of winter.

She watched it for what felt like an eternity. It wasn't moving. Was it asleep? She stared at it a moment longer, then got an idea. She stooped down onto the grass, and picked up a palm-sized rock. _I am going to regret this._ She thought to herself again, then leaned out from behind the tree and tossed the rock at the beast's head. It bounced off one of its antlers with a resounding _CRACK_. She quickly ducked back behind the tree, her muscles tensed, ready to bolt at the slightest sound of movement. Instead, she was met with silence.

After a few more moments, she made herself look out once again. It still hadn't moved.

Going against her better judgement, she stepped out from behind the tree and carefully made her towards the deerclops. Ever so silently, she walked around the beast to its front, then grimaced at the sight.

The creature lay on its side, slack-jawed, its half-lidded eye staring blankly ahead. Its chest and abdomen were covered with deep lacerations that dyed the monster's fur red, and coated the ground underneath it with a crimson liquid.

Willow tapped the beast's head with her axe. It was definitely dead. She pinched her nose, almost gagging at the overpowering stench of blood.

A sudden hiss jolted her out of her thoughts. She jumped and turned to see about seven large, black spiders crawling over the legs of the deerclops, multiple eyes fixated on her and their teeth bared.

She took several steps back from the corpse, putting plenty of room between her and the spiders. The spider at the front of the pack, presumably the leader, gave her another small hiss, then began biting at the deerclop's fur. The rest of the spiders followed suit, not paying Willow any more mind.

She watched as the repulsive arachnids bit greedily at the monster's body, trying to get at the meat underneath all of its fur. At least they weren't bothering her. She gave the spiders one more disgusted look, then turned to walk back towards camp. Maybe she and Wilson could come out here and take care of the spiders together before they picked the thing clean. It could likely supply them with enough meat to last the whole winter, plus they'd have extra wool to make clothing with.

A rustle from some bushes nearby interrupted her thoughts once again. She paused, listening, then was about to continue walking when she heard a whimper. She stared at the foliage where the noise had come from, then, carefully setting down her backpack, she came over to the bushes and pushed them aside.

A large, watery eye stared back at her. The creature that the eye belonged to was crouched low on the ground, about the size of a large dog. Its grey ears were folded down against its head, and the rest of its limbs were concealed underneath the puffy white fur that covered the rest of its body. It lifted its head slightly upon seeing Willow, mewing softly.

Willow's breath hitched as she realized what she was looking at. "Oh, no…" She looked back at the lifeless deerclops behind her, then back at the much smaller one in front of her. "That was your mother, wasn't it?"

The baby deerclops whimpered again, its little body trembling.

Willow sat back, trying to think of what to do. She looked back at her backpack, then reached for it and started rummaging around in it. She took out a piece of jerky, then pushed the bushes aside once again. The deerclops looked at her once again, its nose twitching.

She carefully offered the jerky to it. "It's okay," she spoke softly, "I'm not going to hurt you."

It sniffed her hand cautiously, then took the jerky from her hand with its mouth, chewing it up in one bite. Then, after finishing the jerky, it did something that surprised Willow. It carefully crawled partway out of the bushes towards her, then rested its head on her lap and closed its eye, purring softly.

Willow stared down at it for a moment, then put a hand on its head, stroking it gently. "There you go, nice deerclops..." She thought about what to do next as she pet the monster's head. She couldn't just leave it out here, it was too young to be able to fend for itself. Either the spiders would find it, or it'd freeze or starve to death. She sighed, there was only one thing that could be done now.

* * *

Despite it being a baby, the deerclops was still a bit too big for Willow to carry back towards camp, so she settled on leaving small bits of jerky on the ground as she walked. She bit off a piece for herself as she tossed another on the ground, watching the fuzzy creature snap it up, then amble over to the next one. "Almost there." She told it.

When they reached the outside of the camp, Willow took out the last of the jerky she had and set it on the ground outside the walls. The baby deerclops scampered up to her, then upon noticing the jerky, sat down and began to munch at it. "Good deerclops." She told it, patting it on the head. "Now, just stay right here." It blinked its large eye at her, then continued eating.

She gave it one more look before turning and going inside the camp. She spotted Wilson over at one of their chests, filling it with grass. She quickly trotted up to him. "Hey."

He turned to look at her, then smiled. "Ah, good to see you made it back!" He turned back towards the chest. "Did you get some logs?"

"Yeah." Willow glanced back behind her. "I also found something else out there too."

"Oh really? What was it?" Wilson stood back up to face her.

"Well, I was walking through the woods, when I saw a—"

"Willow! Behind you!"

Her story was cut short as she turned around to see the baby deerclops that she'd led back to camp standing just a few feet behind them. What did she just tell it?!

Wilson grabbed a spear and stepped in front of Willow protectively. "Get back!" He pointed the sharp end of the weapon at the creature.

The deerclops got down on all fours and hissed at Wilson, ruffling up its fur like a catcoon.

"Wilson! Calm down!" Willow came around and took hold of his spear, glaring at him. "He's just a baby."

"That only means that its mother can't be far behind." He retorted, trying to pull the spear from her. "Now help me get rid of it!"

"No," she held the spear firmly, "his mother is not coming."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I led him here!" Everyone went quiet. Even the baby deerclops who'd been observing them this whole time had become silent, it's large eye wide with curiosity.

Wilson lowered his spear slightly. "What?"

Willow sighed. "His mother was dead in the forest, and I found him." She let go of the spear and walked over to the deerclops. It chirped happily and nuzzled her leg. "You see? He isn't dangerous."

Wilson lowered the tip of his spear to the ground, baffled by what she'd just told him. "So… that's why it's here?"

"Yes."

He stared at the creature standing next to Willow, then sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Willow, we can't keep this thing."

"Why not?" She gave him a stern look, and put a hand on the deerclops's head. "He's a _baby_, Wilson. He wouldn't be able to survive on his own."

"That's my main concern." Wilson looked at her. "He is a baby, and babies grow up! What are we going to do when he's _huge_?!" He spread his arms out, dropping his spear.

"Then he'll be on our side."

Wilson lifted a finger to argue against that, then paused.

Willow smiled crossed her arms triumphantly.

"On _our_ side?" Wilson lowered his hand, then looked at the deerclops still standing next to her. "Could we teach him to do that?"

"I'm sure we could." She scratched the monster's head, making him purr. "See? He already likes me."

"It seems to have imprinted rather quickly." Wilson crouched down. "Hmm. I have a compelling urge to do science now."

"You're not going to be doing any experiments on him." Willow stated.

"Okay, alright, no science." He stood back up. "Maybe I could just do some behavioral studies. From afar."

Willow smiled. "So… we can keep him?"

He smiled back. "Yes."

She grinned and gave him a big hug. "Thank you, Wilson. You know, I think we'll like having a deerclops around. He's really affectionate."

They turned to see the baby deerclops playfully chasing Chester around the camp. Chester bounced his way over to them, deerclops in hot pursuit. Chester pressed his fuzzy body up against Wilson as the deerclops skidded to a halt and sniffed him.

Wilson laughed. "Yes, I can see that." He got down onto his knees to get on eye level with the deerclops, then experimentally held out his hand.

The deerclops sniffed his hand like he did with Willow, then looked between Wilson and his hand. Then, the monster closed his eye and let Wilson pet him on the head.

Willow put her hand on his shoulder. "You're a natural, Mr. Higgsburry."

"Yes, a natural at petting things." He answered sarcastically, then stood back up. "Well, as interesting as this day has been, winter still stops for no one here. There's still much we can get done before sundown."

"Right." Willow agreed. "How about we discuss what we need to do over some lunch?"

"Sounds great." Wilson smiled, walking towards the fire pit.

Willow smiled again and turned to follow him, Chester and the baby deerclops right behind her.


	9. Story Time

**Hello once again guys! I've got a bunch of drabbles from my tumblr featuring various couples from Don't Starve. First up, we've got a little story about the time Willow first realized he liked Wilson. Enjoy!**

* * *

Willow skimmed over the bookshelf next to her daughter's bed. "And what story would you like to hear tonight?"

Hazel sat up in her bed, her mother's old stuffed bear, Bernie, resting right beside her. "Can I hear another one of _your_ stories tonight, Mom?"

"My stories?" She turned to her and sat down on the bed. "Well then, which one would you like to hear?"

Hazel grinned. "One about you and Dad!"

She chuckled. "Your father and I have lots of stories about ourselves." She leaned closer to her. "Would you like to hear the story about how we met?"

"You've told me that one already!" Hazel picked up Bernie, squeezing him tightly. "Dad was running from a tree monster and then you saved him by lighting it on fire."

"Hm, I guess you _have_ heard that one…" Willow put her hand on her chin and thought for a moment. "Alright missy, I've got a story that you haven't heard yet."

Hazel leaned back on her pillow, already fidgeting with anticipation for the story.

* * *

"Wilson, I may not be a scientist, but even I think this has a lot variables working against us."

"I understand your concerns, Miss Willow, but I think it's worth a shot." Wilson replied as he made the finishing touches to their contraption.

"I sincerely hope you've considered the consequences here." She crossed her arms. Out of all the crazy ideas this man had, this one had to rank among his craziest. "Either we pull this off, or we'll be smashed, burned, or blown to smithereens."

"Believe me, as a scientist, I have." He stood back up to face her. "But this thing has been tormenting us for too long." He motioned out towards the desert where their target currently dwelled. "With it gone, we'll be able to travel north without fear of running into it, which means we'll have even greater access to resources and pig villages."

She sighed, he had a good point, darn it all. "I can't believe I'm going through with this."

He watched her expectantly. "So, you'll help?"

She gave him another look. If this plan worked, it was going to be a miracle. "Yes, I'm in."

Together, they set off towards the desert, a spear in his hand and a blowdart in hers.

"Do you want to distract it or me?" He asked her as they walked briskly.

"I'll do it." She replied. "It might still hurt me, but at least I won't burn."

He nodded in response.

Once their target came into view, they ducked behind some rocks. Willow leaned out from around the boulder to get a better look.

A massive, green dragonfly monster rested on the ground next to a lava bit, its scaly body rising and falling with each breath it took.

She sneered slightly. "Ugh, it's even uglier up close."

"Shhh." Wilson brought a finger to his lips. "Remember the plan now. Try and get as close as you can, then fire the dart." He knelt down to draw some lines on the ground at their feet. "I'll come around from the side and hit it with the spear." He looked back at her. "Remember, we need to make it mad."

She gave him a devilish grin. "With pleasure." Without waiting for a response, she turned and slunk towards the sleeping giant.

Its snores became louder the closer she got, giving off a wave of heat every time it exhaled.

When she was merely feet away from it, she stopped, then raised the blowdart to her lips. "This had better work, Wilson." She whispered to herself, then fired the dart.

The dart hit the thing right in the neck. It let loose a piercing roar as it scrambled to its feet, already seething at its rude awakening.

"HEY UGLY, OVER HERE!" She called out to it.

The dragon turned towards her, and snarled. It beat its disproportionately small wings, and began to hover its way to her.

She turned on her heel and ran for their camp, slowing down occasionally to glance behind her back. "Wilson, _where are you_?" She asked aloud.

The dragon raised its gargantuan arms as if to smash her, but suddenly faltered in mid-air, shrieking in pain.

As if on cue, Wilson ran around from behind the monster, the tip of his spear stained red.

The dragon turned and tried to swipe at him, but he was already clear of its range. A large, red gash ran across its hind leg.

Wilson darted to over to her, and they stopped to watch the monster gain its bearings.

When it focused on them once again, it let fly another deafening roar. Its green scales flashed grey and orange, its eyes and claws now red hot.

Willow took a step back in spite of herself. It was definitely pissed off. "What do we do now?"

"Now, we run!" Wilson turned and sprinted for the forest.

She did have to be told twice.

They sprinted into the woods as the monster followed not far behind, smashing trees, rocks, and everything else that was in its path.

"We need to lure it to the trap!" He explained to her as they ran. "Do you have your lighter?"

"Got it." She pulled her lighter out of her pocket.

"Good. Now quickly, this way!" He took her arm and pulled her through a thick group of trees and into a clearing.

At the edge of clearing lay a small line of gunpowder. The trail connected to a much larger pile of gunpowder in the middle of the clearing, where two dummies resembling her and Wilson stood.

Willow came to a stop at the edge of the fuse, trying to flicker her lighter on.

Wilson glanced at the shaking trees behind them. It would be mere seconds before it broke through. "C'mon, hurry!"

"I'm trying!" She retorted, and held the flame to the fuse. In a second, it was lit, and traveling towards the pile. "Okay, it's ready!"

Several trees fell around them as the dragon began smashing its way through.

"RUN!" He took her arm again and together they sprinted past their dummy counterparts and into the woods past the clearing.

"Will we have enough time to get clear?" She asked him as they ran into the forest.

"I don't know. We'll have to try." He answered.

She was about to follow him, but then paused, looking up at the large pines above them. "The trees."

"What?" He stopped, glancing back at her.

"We can climb into the trees!" She stated, running up to the base of one. "Come here, I'll give you a boost."

They had no choice now, they had wasted precious seconds coming up with the idea. He ran up to Willow as she put her hands together, forming a makeshift stepstool with her body.

He put his foot on her hands, and she practically tossed him up into the tree. He grabbed the closest branch he could and caught his balance. Then, he reached down and took her arm, helping her up next.

As soon as she was on the branch with him, she began climbing. "Come on," she called down to him, "we need to get as high as possible."

Wilson had never considered himself much of a tree climber, but in situations like this, it was amazing what an adrenalin rush and a rampaging monster could do.

They had just reached the near-top of the pine, giving them a clear view of the forest and the meadow where their trap lay, as the dragonfly burst from the woods.

They watched as it took notice of the dummies, and immediately made a beeline for them, still seething with rage.

Willow's heart pounded as she watched the ordeal go down. Please let the fuse be long enough.

The dragon snarled at the dummies, and raised its claws to smash them to pieces.

The claws never found their target. The entire meadow ignited in a fiery explosion as wood, rocks, and other debris skyrocketed into the air.

The force from the blast swept through the trees, blowing them backwards as if they were in a windstorm. Willow and Wilson clung to the pine with all their might as it swayed back and forth.

Once the tree ceased its rocking, they looked back at the clearing. There was so much smoke rising from it they could barely see where it was.

Willow gaped in awe at the event she just witnessed. "You think we got it?" She looked down at Wilson, who was clinging to a branch just below her.

He glanced back up at her. "I suppose there's only one way to find out."

After climbing back down the tree, they carefully entered the clearing once again. A breeze swept through it, blowing off the remaining smoke.

All that was left of the dragonfly was a charred skeleton lying in the middle of a massive crater, with scales and pieces of cooked meat lying everywhere.

Wilson gaped at the sight before him. "We… we actually did it." He looked at her. "_We did it_!" He whooped and ran into the clearing, jumping around like he was doing some kind of victory dance.

She grinned and ran after him, the two of them pumping the air and chanting like a pair of hooligans.

They danced around until they could no longer stand, then flopped down onto the charred grass, their chests rising and falling with each breath.

Willow looked over at the man lying next to her. He grinned back, too out of breath to say anything.

She couldn't stop smiling at him. That crazy plan of his actually worked. And he was so happy about it. He looked like a child who just won the lottery.

She stared at him until she felt her cheeks turn pink, then looked back up at the sky above them.

* * *

Hazel giggled, making Willow pause.

She raised an eyebrow in mock annoyance. "And what are_ you_ laughing about?"

Hazel grinned, cuddling Bernie in her arms. "You liiiiked him!"

Willow chuckled. "Oh, c'mere you!" She ruffled her daughter's hair, making her squeal.

"It's true though!" She retorted playfully. "Right?"

Willow laughed softly again. "Yes, it's true. That was the very first moment I'd realized that I liked him."

"Wow." Hazel responded. "So, when did Dad realize he liked _you_?"

She smiled, tucking her daughter into her bed. "That's a story _he's_ going to have to tell you tomorrow."

"Awww, okay." Hazel turned on her side, clutching Bernie to her chest. "G'night mom."

She leaned forward and kissed her on the head. "Goodnight sweetie."

Willow stood up, and dimmed down the light before she exited her daughter's room, closing the door behind her.


	10. Je t'aime

**Summary: **Wigfrid becomes annoyed that Wes has never spoken to her, so she tries to convince him to speak.

* * *

"Yöu're really nöt much öf a talker, are ye?" Wigfrid brought up the question rather abruptly. They had been sitting around a campfire for what felt like hours, and the silence was threatening to bore her to death.

It didn't help much that her only conversation partner in this hostile world was an extremely silent mime. The only noises she had ever heard come out of him was a small cry of pain when he had gotten stung by a bee, and the steady breaths he took whenever he slept next to her.

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his presence. It still beat being alone out here by a long ways. He always listened attentively whenever she spoke to him, always nodding or shaking his head, maybe throwing in a few written words, sign language, or even charades. She had become rather skilled in reading his body language whenever they had a conversation.

Still, despite how close they had become, the fact that he had never truly spoken to her wouldn't leave her mind.

He averted his gaze from the campfire to glance at her, a little taken off-guard by the question. He simply shrugged, and resumed watching the flames.

She sighed. "Förgive if that söunded intrusive." She glanced down to study the fire as well. "It's just that, I've never önce heard yöu speak."

He looked back up at her, his eyes fixated on her curiously.

That must've been her indication to keep going. "I just sömetimes wönder… _Can_ yöu talk?"

To her surprise, he sat up straight and nodded his head, a small smile on his painted face.

She blinked. That was not the answer she was expecting. "Sö, yöu can… but yöu dön't?"

He gave a small shrug and another nod.

She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her legs. "Why nöt?"

He sighed quietly and averted his gaze, looking rather contemplative, before looking back at her and shrugging again.

"Dö you just… feel like yöu have nöthing tö say?"

Another small nod.

"Hm." She studied the flames again in silence, then spoke up. "Really? Nöthing at all?"

Instead of nodding, he looked a bit sheepish then gave another small shrug.

She sat back up. "Aw, c'mön nöw. There must be _something_ yöu'd like tö say."

He twiddled his thumbs, trying to look nonchalant.

"Please?"

He glanced away, avoiding eye contact.

"Cöme ön, just say _öne _thing." She egged him. "Öne sentence. The first thing that cömes intö yöur head."

He looked at her again, then sighed quietly, accepting defeat. He carefully got up from his sitting place, and walked around the fire to where she sat.

She watched him expectantly, he mind already reeling with what he might say to her.

He sat down in front of her, the firelight casting a silhouette around his figure. Then, he took his hand in hers, another thing that surprised her greatly.

He watched her for what felt like an eternity. The air around them was silent save for the crackling of the fire and their soft breathing.

He took an audible breath. "Je… Je t'aime."

She stared at him, desperately trying to remember her French. "Je" meant "I", and "aime" meant…

"Yöu… löve m-" She stopped mid-sentence, her face turning bright pink. "Wait, _what_?!"

She didn't even realize her Nordic accent had disappeared.

He simply sat there, smiling at her.

She stared back, completely dumbstruck, before tackling him in a massive hug.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as close he could.

She sniffed, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I love you too… Ye big lug, yöu…"

He never said another word to her the entire time they were on that island, and she never asked him to.

The second time he ever spoke to her was the moment they had gotten out of that world. They stood together on the outskirts of Paris. He had turned to her, and took her hands in his just as he did so long ago.

"Tu es ma joie de vivre, et je veux être avec toi." He beamed at her, then kneeled down on the ground. "Veux-tu m'épouser?"


	11. Unicorn

**Hello once again everyone! I'm gonna keep the Wesfrid train rolling here with another oneshot. This one is a kinda-sorta continuation of the last one, featuring Wes and Wigfrid after they've escaped from the island. **

* * *

She was resting on the couch in their apartment when he came home, the clicking of his shoes on the floor alerting her to his presence.

He smiled widely as he came around the corner to where he was. His face was still covered in makeup from entertaining the passerby out on the streets.

Although she was skeptical at first about moving here, the beautiful city of Paris had grown on her since then. The city of lights had an unbridled love for the theatre here, and every person who encountered Wes on the streets had immediately taken a liking to him, especially children.

She returned his smile as she sat up to greet him. "Well, you're home a bit early."

She couldn't help but notice how he was holding his hands behind his back, as if he were hiding something from her. She shifted her weight as she leaned to one side, trying to see what he had behind his back. "What have you got there?"

He grinned again, then sat down on the opposite end of the couch, facing her. Then, he brought his hands around to his front to reveal… a stuffed unicorn toy.

She blinked. Like many of the things this man did, this was also unexpected.

Taking the stuffed animal into her hands, she studied it closely.

Its body was a soft purple, with violet mane and tail made out of yarn. Its hooves were magenta, and its nose a pastel pink, with a gold horn sitting atop its head. She rubbed her fingers against its plush fur. It was so soft.

Old memories of her days as a fierce, unicorn-loving Valkyrie made their back to her. _The pöwer of the unicörn is great_, she thought to herself.

She smiled and sniffled, her eyes beginning to well up. "It's adorable." She wiped the tears from her cheeks, why on Earth was she crying over a unicorn? "Where did you get this?"

He pointed out towards the city, then made a few more gesturing motions.

"You went down to the shops? Just to get this, for me?"

He nodded happily, but then his smile began to fade slightly, his concern very clear to her. Did she not like it?

She gave him another smile as she snuggled the unicorn close to her, then pulled him in for a hug. "It's perfect." She sniffled again as tears once again escaped her eyes. "I love it so much…"

He breathed softly as he buried his face in her red hair, hugging her as tightly as he could.

She kissed his cheek, not paying any mind to the makeup on his face, then finally had to break the hug. "I'm sorry," she said as she wiped the tears from her eyes once again, "my hormones have just been all over the place lately."

Wes grinned widely again, then leaned down low to gently cradle her large midsection, putting his ear up to it.

She smiled and ran her hand through his dark hair, the other one still holding the plush. "We'd best hope this baby likes unicorns," she laughed softly, "cause they're going to be seeing a lot of them."


	12. Smallbird

**The next drabble we've got here is Wendy and Webber raising a baby small bird like a game of House. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Pleaaase, Miss Wickerbottom?"

"That was supposed to be your dinner tonight."

"We can't eat him now that he's hatched!" Webber held up the tiny smallbird in his hands. "Look at him, who could eat a face like that?"

Wickerbottom sighed and adjusted her glasses. "Alright then, what do you propose we do with it?"

"I wanna keep him!" He grinned excitedly. "Wendy and I can raise him together!"

"Are you sure Wendy will be willing to help you raise him?"

"Well, um, I haven't asked her yet." He looked down sheepishly, but perked up again. "But I'm sure she'll say yes!"

She sighed again. Anyone with two eyes could tell that Wendy did not care for animals, particularly little ones like Webber's new smallbird. At the same time, she didn't have the heart to bust his bubble.

"Okay then, if you feel as if you're ready to handle the responsibility of taking care of a pet…"

"I am!"

She gave him a small smile. "… Then you can keep it."

"YAY!" He jumped around and gave the smallbird in his arms a hug. "Did you hear that Peedee? You get to be part of the family!"

The bird blinked its massive eye and chirped.

"Peedee?" Wickerbottom raised an eyebrow. "When did you name him that?"

"Just now!" He smiled and turned from her. "I'm gonna go tell Wendy the good news!" He darted off before she could respond to him.

Wendy picked up a spear and ran a finger along its pointed edge. Not extremely sharp, but sharp enough to kill a rabbit.

Abigail, her ghostly twin sister, floated just a few feet away from her, watching patiently.

Satisfied with her weapon, Wendy set the end on the ground and looked to her sister. "Okay Abby, let's get go-"

"Wendy!"

She and Abigail turned to the source of their interruption as Webber trotted up to them, a strange, one-eyed creature resting in his arms.

"Wendy!" He repeated as he came to a stop in front of her, slightly out of breath. "Remember that egg Wigfrid got from the tallbird nest? It hatched!" He lifted the fluffy smallbird up to her eye-level.

She fought the urge to sneer as it stared at her with its giant eyeball. "That's… lovely, Webber, but why are you telling me this?"

"Well," he brought the bird back down to his chest, "Wickerbottom said I could keep him. So I was thinking we could raise him together! You know, like a family!"

She felt the blood drain from her face. The last thing she wanted to be doing out here was care for some mindless, needy creature. It was difficult enough keeping herself and her (mostly) human companions alive. What made Webber think they'd be able to raise a pet as well? No no, she had to let him down gently.

"I appreciate the offer, Webber, but I can't help you raise him."

"What? Why not?" His extra appendages drooped slightly.

"I just…" She fumbled for words. "It's a big responsibility."

"We're responsible!" He retorted. "We've survived on this island together, haven't we?"

"Yes, but-"

"Aw c'mon, please Wendy? It'll be just like playing a game of House!"

She paused. "A what?"

"Y'know, House!" He replied. "I can be his dad, and you can be his mom!"

She could sense her sister laughing from behind her. "Webber, I don't think-"

"Pleeeeassse?" He gave his best puppy-dog face.

She sighed, there was clearly going to be no changing his mind. "…Fine. But I'm not being a stay-at-home mom."

"Yes!" He jumped in the air again. "C'mon Peedee, let's go give you a bath!" He turned back to her. "Wanna come?"

She stared at the bird in his arms. "Oh no, Abigail and I are going to go out to the fields and slaughter some rab-" She turned to where her sister should have been, only to find nothing.

She looked around herself. "Abigail?" Her sister was nowhere to be found.

She found herself facing Webber, still waiting expectantly. She sighed again. "Fine."

Trudging reluctantly behind the excited spider boy, she glanced to her side just as Abigail reappeared next to her, looking far too happy.

"I'll get you back for that one…" She whispered to her.

Abigail simply kept smiling.


	13. Loved

Wigfrid had done everything right.

She had eaten all the right foods, never drank any alcohol, and kept her stress levels as low as possible.

Wes had doted over her like the loving husband that he was, while Wayland chattered excitedly about all the activities he would do with his upcoming sibling.

She remembered looking over the white crib in the nursery, a small unicorn toy sitting on the mattress below. The walls were a soft lavender, with painted flowers lining the edges.

Wes had come up and given her a hug from behind, kissing her cheek. She had smiled and linked her hands with his. In those few moments, it was as if everything was right in the world.

And then, two months before her due date, the contractions started.

She should've paid more attention. If she had gone to the hospital earlier, maybe they could've done something more to help. Maybe they could've stopped it. Maybe, maybe, maybe…. The word plagued her mind like a disease.

It wasn't until her water broke that she realized something was wrong.

The events played themselves out in her mind in a series of flashes. She remembered crying out for her husband as her as she dropped to her hands and knees on the floor. She remembered him scooping her up and taking her to the hospital as fast as he could. The rest was clouded by the constant pain she was in.

The next thing she remembered was being in a hospital bed. A needle with a tube attached to it was inserted into her arm. Doctors and nurses bustled all around her, poking and prodding her in every uncomfortable place they could find.

She could only make out words and phrases amongst the chaos and pain.

_…too late to reverse… _

_…progressed too far…_

_ …premature…_

She screamed as another wave of burning pain hit her. Tears rolled down her cheeks as her body began operating on its own, refusing to listen to her. This wasn't supposed to be happening. She shouldn't be here. None of these people should be here doing this to her. Somewhere to her side, a nurse told her not to resist.

Eventually, after many long hours, the pain subsided. Her face was flushed, her red hair clinging to her face with sweat. The word 'girl' was mentioned, though by who she couldn't tell. Through the spots in her vision, she saw a doctor wrap a small thing in a bundle.

For a brief moment, all seemed well. But as her other senses returned to her, her smile suddenly faded. The baby wasn't crying.

Doctors and nurses crowded around the bundle, obscuring her vision. Someone picked up a mask with a tube attached to it. Another person quickly ran out of the room.

She sat up higher, ignoring the burning soreness in her abdomen. "Why isn't she crying?" Her voice was horse and barely above a whisper.

The doctors continued to work diligently, ignoring her question. They babbled amongst each other as a nurse grabbed more blankets and turned the knobs on a machine next to them.

"_Why isn't she crying_?!" Her voice echoed across the room as she ripped the blanket off of her and sat up further. A nurse rushed over to her and gently took her by the shoulders, holding her on the bed.

And then, a shrill cry filled the room. It started out soft, but quickly increased in noise level with each breath the baby took.

Wigfrid sighed again, a brief feeling of relief washing over her.

Then, the person who had left the room had returned wheeling a device. It looked like a plastic tank with holes in it. The doctor gathered up the screaming bundle and placed her into the device, before turning and wheeling it towards the door.

Anxiety gripped her once again. "Where are you taking her?"

"She needs to be taken to the neonatal intensive care unit. Her lungs aren't very strong."

Her maternal instincts began taking over, blocking out any other reasoning. "Let me see her."

"Ma'am, we need to-"

"You can't take her away from me! I'm her mother!" She tried to get out of the bed, but more people came and held her down. She fought back. "Please, she needs me!"

"I'm sorry, ma'am." They turned and continued pushing the bassinet towards the door.

She shoved the nurse holding her shoulders off. "_No_!" They were going to have to try harder if they wanted to stop her.

Unfortunately, they did. Someone took hold of her arm and injected something from a syringe into the IV. Within seconds, her movement became sluggish and her struggling slowed as her vision began to blur and distort.

They lowered her back onto the bed as her consciousness slipped further and further from her grip. The last thing she heard was her daughter's cry as she was wheeled out the hallway and out of sight.

* * *

When she awoke again, she was in a different room in a different bed. She blinked slowly, her vision gradually coming back into focus.

The door to the room opened, and a familiar face walked in.

Wigfrid remembered the day Wayland was born. She remembered the look of pure joy and pride on Wes's face as he opened the door to find her in a bed, holding their newborn son in her arms.

Today was not like that day. Instead of rushing in eagerly, he entered the room slowly, almost cautiously. His face was devoid of any makeup, and his eyes were glassy. He came to a stop in front of her, his expression quiet and solemn.

It was the straw that finally broke her. She looked down at her lap and grit her teeth, the tears finally flowing freely from her eyes.

He was at her side in mere seconds, climbing onto the bed next to her and taking her in his arms.

Her shoulders shook as she sobbed into his chest, all of the guilt and worry returning to her at once. "I-I did this…" It must've been her fault somehow. She must have done something wrong.

He held her tighter and rested his head on top of hers.

"Th-they took her away b-because she couldn't breathe well…" She sobbed harder and gripped at his sweater. "I… d-didn't even g-get to hold her…"

"Shh…Shh…" He whispered to her softly. All he could do was hold her.

He stayed with her until the doctor entered the room, forcing him to leave so Wigfrid could be spoken to in private. He trudged through the hospital corridors, not paying any mind to the looks patients and workers gave him as he passed by.

He walked until a certain sign caught his attention. _NCIU_.

He stopped, then carefully snuck a peek through the window on the door. The room inside was somewhat spacious, but the thing that immediately caught his eye was the glass bassinet sitting against the wall. A small bundle rested inside of it.

His heart skipped a beat as he noticed the bundle, should he dare enter? The hospital would likely kick him out if they caught him. He glanced to either side of him. No one was around.

The door silently squeaked open as he slipped into the room, carefully walking over to the bassinet. He got down on his knees to look inside.

The tiny baby girl was swaddled tightly in a white blanket. A small rubber tube was attached to her nose. A patch of vibrant red hair sat atop her tiny head, and she slept soundly in the warmth of the incubator.

Wes's smile grew as he admired his daughter. She was tiny and most-definitely frail, but she was alive, and that was all that mattered. He slipped off a glove and reached his hand inside, touching his fingertips to the baby's head.

She stirred very slightly, and within a new moments, her eyes slowly opened. She stared at him with brown eyes just like his own, before making a small sound and reaching a tiny hand through her blankets towards him.

He brought his hand to hers, letting her take hold of one of his fingers. She gripped it with all of her might, refusing to let go. He smiled again, wiping away some tears with his free hand.

The nurse caring for the newborn girl entered the room again not long after, and paused. The baby was still asleep, completely undisturbed. There had been no signs that another person had entered the room while she was away, all except for a small, pink balloon shaped into a unicorn that was sitting on top of her incubator.

* * *

Wes entered the room as the doctor left again.

Wigfrid simply glanced up at him from her bed, her eyes red from crying. "He said… He said she'll need to stay here for a while… Until she's healthy enough to come home."

He nodded slowly as he came over to the bed and sat down next to her.

She stayed silent as she wiped away more tears.

Wes waited for her to break the silence, and when she didn't, he took a breath instead. "I saw her…"

She immediately looked up at him. Wes only spoke when he needed to, and it was almost never in English. "W-what? Where did you see her? Is she okay?"

He smiled and removed his glove, taking her hand in his. "She held onto my finger very tightly and would not let go."

She could hardly believe her ears. He had actually snuck in there?

He wrapped his arms around her. "She's strong, Wigfrid…"

She stared down at her hands intertwined in his, before sniffing and wiping away more tears. "Th-Thank you…."

She was answered with a kiss on the forehead.


	14. Twins

**Summary: William Carter suspects that his wife Charlie, may be having more than one baby. How he goes about telling her, is a different story. A little revisiting of my old Maxlie babies storyline, with a few changes here and there. **

* * *

"Twins" - A Maxlie Drabble

William Carter thought of himself as an intelligent man. Of that, if anything, he was certain of. His heightened smarts had led to him being more observant of his surroundings, most of the time leaving him feeling rather proud of using his brain to deduce a logical conclusion.

This conclusion, however, had him at a loss.

His beloved wife, Charlie, was nearing the fifth month of her pregnancy. Everything had been progressing smoothly, thank goodness, and with it being their first child, both parents were greatly looking forward to the start of a new chapter in their lives. William had always been fond of children, and now that he and Charlie were finally in a place where they both felt prepared to take on the task of parenthood, he could hardly wait for the day their son or daughter would come into the world.

Which, of course, brought him to the deduction he had reached. Frankly, he was at a loss for how to approach Charlie about it, which was a first for him in quite some time. Somewhere deep down he hoped she had noticed the same things he had, or at least suspected them, so he wouldn't be bringing it up to completely out of the blue. Charlie was no dunce herself, after all, and he was quite aware of that. Out of the two of them, her capability for practical reasoning far exceeded his own. Therefore, he had concluded, he'd best bring it up.

Charlie had settled herself on their couch in the living room, a book in one hand and the other resting atop the noticeable curve of her stomach. Normally, she would have been taking as much advantage as she could of what mobility she still had with taking walks around the town with William and assisting him around the house and shop, knowing that those days would soon come to an end once she reached the later months of her pregnancy. But today her ankles said otherwise, as they had become swollen and somewhat painful from her previous activities, and so she had resigned to staying close to home for the day at the quiet but well-meaning pleas of her husband.

As if on cue, the creak of the stairs from said husband's footsteps could be heard as he made his way up from the shop downstairs. Charlie looked up from her book just in time to see him appear in the doorway, a smile coming onto her face. "Afternoon, dear," she spoke sweetly and returned to her book a moment later, quietly inviting him to join her on the couch, "everything been going smoothly without me?"

The lanky man couldn't help but chuckle at her remark. "Just as busy as ever, love," he replied softly, "although I do miss your commentary on some of the customers." On any other given day, he would have spared no time in coming over and joining her on the sofa, but the subject he wished to bring up had left him feeling hesitant. How would she even react to something like this? Practical reasoning or not, he found himself feeling unsure of how to go about it.

This hesitation did not go unnoticed by Charlie. After a moment had passed and he had not yet joined her, she looked back up from her book. "Is something the matter, Will? You seem as if you've got something on your mind."

"Hm? Ah, I believe you've hit the nail on the head, love," he replied softly and approached her. "There is indeed something I'd like to ask you about. Or rather, something I'd like to tell you..." He adjusted his glasses, a small quirk of his whenever he felt nervous. "Charlie, you are… Well, for lack of a better word… _Huge_. You're huge."

Charlie raised her eyebrows slightly, but didn't take his statement as an offense. "Really, Will?" She snorted softly and turned the page of her book. "I can assure you I am fully aware of that."

A twinge of relief struck him when she wasn't hurt by his statement, but his point hadn't been made either. "No, no, love. I mean, you're _noticeably_ huge." He walked over and knelt down in front of her. "You're only about five months along, but if I didn't know any better I might think you were six, possibly even seven months along."

Charlie slowly looked up from the page she was reading again. She was starting to develop a fairly good idea of what he was implying, but just for curiosity's sake she was sorely tempted to see how far she could push him. "And where, pray tell, are you going with this?"

"W-Well, um," he stammered as he grasped for words and gently put his thin hand on her bump. "Just when I have my hand on your stomach, even _I _think that's quite a lot of movement for just one baby. Don't you think so as well?"

"Maybe, I suppose. But what does that have to do with-"

"_Twins_, Charlie! You are having twins." He finally blurted out what had been on his mind ever since the start of the conversation. All at once, it suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He slowly stood and plopped himself down on the couch next to her, sinking into it as if he were a deflating balloon.

Charlie watched the dramatic shift in her husband's demeanor as he settled down next to her. Clearly this had been something that was on his mind for quite a while. She chuckled and scooted close to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Finally got it out, huh?" She smiled and kissed his cheek. "I had the sense that was where you were going with it. And to tell you the truth, I had a bit of an inkling that something was off as well." She sighed contently and brought her hand back to her stomach, her fingers tracing small patterns across the fabric the maternity dress William had made her. "So… Twins."

"Twins." The lanky man smiled and gently stroked her hair. "I had only been suspicious because of my observations, and that I myself am a twin, even if it's only hereditary on the mother's side."

Charlie hummed her agreement and nodded. "Even so, it still helped you reach a conclusion. I would say it counts in that regard."

"Without a doubt, love." William grinned at her and gave her a small kiss on her lips, a great feeling of pride welling in his chest. "And I must admit, my dear, I feel like the luckiest man alive right now. We might not be having one, but _two_ amazing children. Can you imagine?"

"Oh yes, two little bundles of joy," Charlie chuckled softly. "Two… Do we even have enough supplies for another baby?" Her smile faded slightly as she looked back to William.

"At the moment, likely not," he wrapped an arm around her reassuringly, sensing the worry in her voice, "but we can get everything we need before they arrive."

"I know… But what about the financial part of it?" Her voice now fully betrayed her concern. "We have enough for one, but… Twins? That's going to be twice as much."

"I know love, I know…" He held her closer, resting his head against hers. "That's why I will do everything I can to assure we've got enough. I won't let you or our children go a day without, I promise."

"Will, I won't sit around and just watch you work yourself to the bone to provide for us. You know that." She gently entwined her fingers with his. "Let me help you while I still can. There's still plenty of tasks I can do around the shop without overexerting myself."

William laughed softly and kissed her cheek again. "I don't doubt it in the slightest, dear. As long as you promise not to carry around those large bolts of cloth again, I have no qualms about you helping."

"I had it under control, mister," she gently nudged him with her forehead, "I was doing fine until you came in and started to panic."

"Charlie, love, you are pregnant with twins. I may not be an expert, but I don't believe heavy lifting has any benefit for you or the babies right now." He nudged her back and placed his hand on the curve of her stomach once again, a grin breaking out onto his face as he felt fluttery kicks beneath his palm.

"You've seen me lift things twice as heavy as that, I'm just stating for the record." She sighed and laid her head on his chest again. "But if it will help you keep calm, I'll refrain from doing it."

"Thank you, love." He gently rubbed her shoulder as he held her close. "I am forever grateful that you care about my mental health."

"For you, dear, anything." She smiled and closed her eyes as she relaxed in his arms, a lovely feeling of peace settling over the room. William was going to be an amazing father, even if he didn't know it yet. Of that, Charlie was undoubtedly certain.


End file.
